


Bleeding Envy

by awkward_ace



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dragon Age Quest: Champions of the Just, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Multi, Post-Champions of the Just, i have to know that you're alright, please give her space she is freaking right out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-01 22:43:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11496279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkward_ace/pseuds/awkward_ace
Summary: When the Herald of Andraste returns to Haven, victorious, and with the Templars behind her, things seem right as roses. Unfortunately, something happened to the Herald, and no one can really get an answer out of her. To make matters worse, whatever happened seems to have something to do with the good Commander, and Cassandra gently-but-firmly wishes him to watch himself, at least until the Herald approaches him.And then she does. And then he learns why she woke up screaming.





	Bleeding Envy

**It's bad enough on the outside, but now it's in my head!**

 

It was early evening when the sentries blew the signal to alert Haven of the approach of the Herald.

Usually she returned with a little less fanfare, just her and her small party, maybe a few extra people she had picked up along the way as agents or refugees that they met on the road and escorted back. This time, however, she was at the head of a decent sized host, leading the remaining Templars back from their very near demise.

When the Herald had finally made the decision to approach the Templars first, Cullen had been somewhat shocked that she had taken up his side. He had fully expected that she, as a mage herself, would go for the apostates; they had already gotten into a few somewhat heated disagreements over it. They had been the more popular choice, with even Cassandra leaning more in that direction before meeting Alexius.

The Seeker had rather firmly decided after that meeting that she would rather take the chances with the Templars rather than risk getting caught up in an oily Tevinter plot, and Cullen had been grateful for the support.

But that had been then, and this was now, and now saw columns of Templars coming into the encampment, shields held at their side, and their armor gleaming. They looked an impressive sight, despite the hell that had happened. Cassandra had sent reports ahead, and the three advisors remaining at Haven had been less than thrilled to hear about the red lyrium found at the Temple of Sacred Ashes had been… _fed_ to the Templars, contorting them into mad, monstrous things.

They had also been less than thrilled to hear that Lord Seeker Lucius had, in fact, actually been impersonated by an envy demon who had assumed control of the order. The Herald had been through a rough spot with that thing before she and her companions put it down, but she had not spoken in great deal about it, aside from an outline its plans and Corypheus’ next move. The Seeker’s tone implied that she was still concerned about the Herald, and suggested that perhaps Mother Giselle or Varric be briefed so that either could be there to talk with the mage, should it be needed.

“Get the horses,” Cullen said, waving a cluster of grooms past him, “Lieutenant, get a few others and let’s get these men settled in. I’m sure everyone is tired. I need some healers down here!”

There was a flurry of hustle and noise as the Inquisition scrambled to open up a place and draw the newcomers into its mass, but at least it was now starting to resemble a trained flurry of hustling and noise.

He spotted the Herald’s massive hart being led back to the stable and back tracked along that direction to find her and the rest of her party pulling their gear from their other mounts and getting ready to head into the gates. Cassandra was staying very close to the Herald’s side, her hand occasionally lifting up like she wanted to touch the elf’s shoulder or maybe take her arm, but she would hesitate and then let it fall back to her side. Blackwall had taken the Herald’s saddle bags despite her protests, and was looking a bit more serious than usual. Even Sera seemed a bit subdued, which is what really told Cullen that whatever had happened was definitely bad.

Cullen started their direction.

Cassandra, catching the movement from the corner of her eye, glanced at him, then actually turned her head to look his way and gave it a tense, firm shake, lifting her hand faintly so her palm was facing him in a warning to stop.

His brow furrowed. He wanted to check on the Herald—the reports were concerning, the behavior of her friends were concerning. Everything about this was concerning. He also still felt that he ought to apologize over their last little tiff before she had ridden off to fetch their new allies.

Cassandra raised her eyebrows at him, and pointed towards the trees near the tents. Held up her hand, fingers splayed. Five minutes.

Cullen nodded faintly and turned in that direction instead as Cassandra hurried to catch up with the Herald and the others.

*****

It was probably closer to a quarter of an hour before Cassandra emerged from Haven’s gates and made her way over to him. The Seeker’s face was pink from scrubbing, her hairline damp and curling faintly. She also had a large, steaming mug in hand.

“Are you alright?” he asked as she came to a stop by him.

The Seeker sighed heavily, “Yes. For the most part, it’s only bruises, but I am tired. We…were not expecting that.”

“Naturally. We suspected something, but not a demon that could steal faces.”

“It is unnerving. I hope we never find another one—we must find the Lord Seeker, though that can wait, for the moment. First we must see how the Herald comes out of this.”

“About that—what happened?”

Cassandra leaned back against the nearest tree, letting it take her weight as she took a generous pull from her mug, cradled it in her fingers. She made a slight face. “Ugh. Adan was very serious about the taste of this,” she muttered with a slight disgusted sound. “This better help.”

Cullen’s lips quirked into a slight grin. Adan’s tea. The stuff was strong, bracing, and viciously bitter. He drank it every morning and rather enjoyed it. “Honey helps. A little,” he said.

She only wrinkled her nose before taking another sip.

“I am not sure what happened to the Herald. She herself was never physically pulled from us, but at the doorstep of the keep, she froze, and we could not move her or approach her for what seemed like an eternity. It was probably only a half-hour at most,” she said. “But she went somewhere, in her mind, she said. The demon wanted to steal her face, and was trying to learn about her. She would not say anything further beyond that, but whatever happened, it has…disturbed her. She has not been sleeping well, and Sera said she was talking in her sleep. Unfortunately, it was in Elven, so we have no idea what she said.”

Cullen tilted his head, eyeing the Seeker. “Right. Now what are you still not telling me.”

Cassandra sighed a heavy breath through her nose and looked at him. “She woke up one night, on our way back, screaming. She was crying and could only say your name for a little while after that.”

“Maker’s breath,” he breathed. “Why?”

She shook her head, “Again, we do not know. She would not say. But she has not really slept at all, since that night.” Now she tilted her head back a bit, draining the mug of the remaining tea, and shuddered.

“I know you and the Herald quarreled, briefly, before we left, Commander. I know that you probably wish to make amends, as she does, but I must insist that for now, you let her have some space. We do not know what she saw that upset her so, but it does involve you, and until we can be certain as to how she will be, it is wisest that we try to make things easier as she deals with whatever it is she has experienced.”

Cullen scowled, and opened his mouth to argue, but was cut off as Cassandra raised her hand.

“I understand that you have done nothing in the wrong and that amends are needed, but please, Commander. For now, outside the war room, let her come to you,” she insisted.

“Maker,” he muttered in annoyance, and nodded curtly, “Fine.”

She smiled slightly, gently squeezed his arm. “It is not personal. I almost wish you could have been there to see her—I’ve never seen a mage stand directly beside a Templar as an ally, let alone step in front of an injured one to brain an enemy over the head with her staff when it got too close. It was impressive.”

“She _what_?”

“One of the Templars was injured and went down. The man would’ve been dead if the Herald hadn’t stepped in front of him and beaten back whatever monstrosity it was that the red lyrium made.”

“ _Maker’s breath_ , I have _told her_ repeatedly that she shouldn’t—“

“Commander, we have both told her, and she has yet to listen. As long as someone needs her protection, she is going to give it in any way she pleases whether they want it or not.”

Cullen sighed heavily in exasperation, ignoring the niggling feeling of affection that was blooming in his chest, and rubbed his eyes. “I suppose,” he replied. “Thank you for telling me, Cassandra. I’ll do as you say, for now. Try to rest, we need you, too.”

“I’m beginning to think that perhaps I’ll be able to function on no sleep, by the time we come to the end of this,” she said wryly as she pushed away from the tree and started towards her own tent. “Good night, Commander.”

“Good night, Seeker.”

He certainly had plenty of things for his mind to spin over and over, now. At least it was a better reason for staying up to look over things instead of just being unable to sleep.

*****

Cullen did his best to follow Cassandra’s advice and did not go out of his way to seek the Herald. The first day, he did not see her, or the rest of her party, and assumed they spend a good deal of the time asleep. The next day, he saw the Herald once at the war table as she and Cassandra gave their reports in person; he tried to catch her eye, to really see her face, but she only stared resolutely at the map, hands clenched into fists. His worry was not assuaged, perhaps made a little worse for the suddenly appearing young man that tripped every “demon!” alarm in his mind, but the Herald insisted they let him be and that he stay.

The boy made his skin crawl…when he could recall him, at any rate, which only made the creeping feeling worse.

It was maybe four days after her return, and again early evening, when he actually got the chance to really see her. That was because she had marched out of the gates and down to where he stood near the training ground, eyeing a batch of swords they has procured, and grabbed him by the front of his cloak to drag him along with her towards his tent.

“Herald, what—!”

She pushed him through the front flaps and stepped after him, her hands already pulling at his cloak, tugging it off and dropping it onto his cot before attacking the fasteners of his breast plate

Cullen flushed, tried dodging her hands, and finally caught her wrists. “Herald! What in the Maker’s name are you doing?”

She made a frustrated, teary sound and tugged at her hands, “Let me go, I need to see!”

“See? See what?”

“I need to see _you_!”

His flush deepened. “W-what—that—I-I-I mean, that’s hardly proper!”

She growled in annoyance and yanked her hands free, slapping his away when he tried to grab her wrists again, hooking her fingers into the ridges of the armor as he tried to pull away to pull him back. With a faint rattle as the fastenings came loose, his breast plate abruptly came open and slid down, forcing him to catch it before it clattered to the ground.

Now he was annoyed—well, sort of annoyed, he didn’t _entirely_ mind her undressing him—no! He was annoyed. “Herald—“ he started in a low, warning tone, then shut up as he saw her face.

Her eyes were wide and glassy, staring intensely, brow furrowed as they meticulously looked over his chest and neck, lips pulled thin. Her hands, still on his armor near his, shakily moved after a moment to rest on his collar and slide over it, gently tilting his head up and fingers running over his neck, under his shirt collar and back up. His skin prickled faintly at her touch, goosebumps raising under his shirt.

He frowned in concern, slowly set the breast plate down near his feet, doing his best to keep from moving too much, unwilling to disturb whatever she was searching for. He gently touched her arm, “Herald? Are you alright?”

Whatever she had been looking for, she apparently was satisfied that it wasn’t there. She gave a sort of shuddering, sobbing laugh, and threw her arms around him tightly, burying her face against his chest, nuzzling into his shirt lacings. He staggered a bit, catching her before she took them both down to the ground by accident, and stared down at the top of her head in utter confusion.

She squeezed her arms around him. “I saw you die,” she murmured, a bit muffled. “In my head. With that thing.”

Cullen felt a chill roll down his back, automatically tightened his arms around her but said nothing.

“It wanted to…to _learn_. So it showed me all these…awful things. I…I know it was all just…some trick but…the first thing it did was show me you and Josie, and then it took her shape and cut your throat in front of me. And I couldn’t scream or attack it, or do anything but watch it happen, because if I reacted, if I showed anything, then it would know that it had found something, that it had found _you_ , and it would be just a little bit more _me_ , and I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t let it steal _me_ and then destroy you, use you and everyone while wearing my face. So I had to watch it cut your throat open with a knife, and then watch you fall in front of me, gasping for air and bleeding and dying and looking at me like I was the one who did it. So, I…I had to see you. To make sure it really was all just…in my head.”

Another chill went down his back, lips parting in shock. No wonder she hadn’t been herself since. It was a shock she didn’t wake up screaming every night!

“Maker’s breath,” he said softly, because he could find nothing else to say to describe what he felt at the moment. “I am so sorry, Herald.”

She shivered, cuddled herself as close to him as she could, shifting her head up a bit to rest it in the hollow of his throat.

He shivered, bit back a slight gasp as he felt her brush an airy, feather light kiss there.

“But you are alright,” she said. “You’re here, you’re whole. You’re safe. You’re alright. It was all just the demon playing disgusting tricks, and I beat it. I threw it out, and then we killed it, so it can’t steal…it can’t steal _me_. It can’t hurt anyone else.”

“It can’t,” he replied quietly, in what he hoped was a soothing tone. He gently ran a hand over her back, rubbing slow, soft circles. “You made sure of it.”

She seemed tiny at the moment as he held her, despite being nearly his height, and plenty strong for her slender build. Tiny and outrageously tired. Tired to the point of being worn thin.

“Can I stay here for a little while?” she asked softly, “I’d like to be away from things.”

Cullen smiled a little, and gently moved them both to sit on his cot, pulling his cloak up to drape it over her shoulders and wrap it around her. “Of course, Herald. Stay as long as you need to. I’ll make sure no one disturbs you,” he assured her.

She smiled gratefully at him. “Thank you, Commander.”

He inclined his head, “You’re most welcome. Try to rest. You’ll need it with what’s coming.”

“I’m sorry about earlier. Before we left. That argument, I mean. It was stupid and I was being hard-headed.”

A self-depreciating chuckle, “Yes. I was, too. I’m sorry that I started it. I don’t know when to leave well enough alone, sometimes.”

The Herald grinned, and gently touched her forehead to his, a sweet, warm gesture that had him a little light headed and his stomach doing strange knots. “I think that’s a good thing about you,” she covered a yawn with the back of a hand.

Cullen flushed a bit at the compliment, and set a hand on her shoulder, gently pushing. “Here. Lay down, rest. I have a little work to do, yet.”

“I don’t want to take your bed…”

“If you sleep, I will carry you to your room. Now stop fretting.”

She wrinkled her nose at him but did as he said, curling up in his cloak, fingers playing in the furred edge and watching him drag his camp desk a little closer so he could still remain sitting with her while he sorted through papers. A companionable silence settled around them for a long while.

When Cullen’s eyes began to grow heavy, he finally gave in and pushed the desk away, turning to look at the Herald, and finding her sleeping deeply. It was very late, the only sound the occasional call of one of the sentries to another; the rest of the camp had gone to bed hours ago, which meant the gates would be shut, and one of the guards would have to open them.

He would rather not have questioning eyes looking at him as he carried the Herald back to her little house at this hour, and any questioning eyes that came tomorrow could be dealt with then. Future-Cullen’s problem.

With a tired, resigned-but-not-quite-annoyed sigh, he pulled off his boots, greaves, and gauntlets, for once letting them fall where they may, and turned to carefully stretch out by the elf, who immediately shifted to snuggle against him. He pulled his blanket up over them both, arm settling around her waist, and closed his eyes, breathing in the smell of her hair.

He slept deeply, untroubled by nightmares and dreams, and did not wake up until an hour or so after dawn.

The Herald was gone by then, but she’d left a note on his desk—

“Thank you for letting me stay and for listening. I’ll see you at breakfast! Don’t worry, no one will see me leave. Magic elf powers.”

Cullen laughed, and made a mental note to tell Cassandra that the Herald seemed to be getting back to her usual self, magic elf powers and all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> What up, I wrote something besides stupid humor to make myself laugh! Because I'm really glad to be writing again and this is turning into a real thing that needs to be explored yaaaaaay!
> 
> Once again inspired while playing. Madam Inquisitor was solid steel when that demon was poking around in her head but the demon's opener was a bitch and she did not like it one bit. Lots of internal-internal screaming. Lots of Cullen bothering afterwards. It's no small wonder she's shaping up to be a vicious little electro-charged ball of fury.
> 
> Cassandra is the lady to have at your back when bad stuff goes down. *Team Pentaghast--more like PentaGASP*


End file.
